Demons Return
by Penya
Summary: Alternative to Ever After Graphic scenes planned for later. Still a work in progress. Posted mostly as a cry for help with the making. Romance - Friendship - Family - Smut - Ral - Trench - Orgy - Angst -Etc. Reader Discretion Advised
1. Chapter 1

**Characters and Alternative Reality belong to Kim Harrison. I am not Kim Harrison. Daydreams and future perversion belong to me.**

**Warning Future: explicit sex scenes, some dubious consent, sex with father figure, Ral, Trench, orgy, seduction, humiliation etc. This may overly upset you, reader discretion advised.**

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Dark brown eyes scrutinized me as I shifted uncomfortably on Ivy's comfortable conference chair. I wasn't the one being interviewed. Why was I the one wringing my hands? The vampire across from me was not menacing, but it was always unhealthy to catch too much of an undead's attention. Ivy walked in – no that's not right. Ivy wasn't walking in, she was promenading in. Her movements embodying grace, sex, and sleek elegance told me my roommate was starting to loose herself. I didn't blame her. Nina was still struggling to pick up the pieces of her life the man had carelessly shattered. He had awoken instinctual hungers she had not the power, practice, or strength of will to control, and then he had been more of an encumbrance than help. Ivy was working with her; teaching her control. If anyone could help her it would be Ivy.

Our guest shouldn't have been able to step foot in our sanctuary, had he the courtesy of showing up in his own damned body. Raphael, his host's name and the one the dead man was going by now, had a dark mahogany pebbly skin and a wrinkled bold head on top of a round almost flabby body that could probably bench press three times my body weight. And he was still alive, for now. Something about him made me think civil servant, but I had not had a chance to meet the man. Raphael had shown up at our doorstep during my morning coffee and rung our doorbell already occupied. Raphael, not our doorbell.

"I'm sorry but I don't understand why you need my help. Black witches, even a coven of them, should be fairly easy for the IS to bring in. Why are you coming to me?" Raphael smirked, his leers much more masculinity insulting than they had been on Nina's sweet face.

"I have mentioned before, Ms. Morgan, how regrettable it is that we let you slip through our fingers. -Come back to us. We'll take good care of you, give you the respect you deserve*.- We want you back, and surely, at this point you realize how…precarious your situation is. Your coffers must be pinching what with your FIB friend handing in the red slip and all the media coverage concerning your…ethnicity. Let us help you to help yourself." He smiled at me with a look that might have been coy had it been on more appropriately dainty features. I stiffened as he breathed in deeply, shifting his shoulders back as he tasted my unease, something that had not sat quite right on Nina.

I put my feet square on the floor and tried to look as relaxed as possible – but I wasn't. God, I hated dealing with the old ones.

"If I remember correctly, the last time I worked for you not only was I kidnaped and experimented on, but you also threatened to frame me if I didn't solve the crime for you." I was likely shortening my lifespan by saying no to the IS, but all Raphael did was smile. He tilted his head, dangerously suave he eyed me from under thick eyelashes.

"Come now, Ms. Morgan, surely you won't be holding that simple misunderstanding against us."

"Simple misunderstanding," I said outraged. "Because you were so stupidly overconfident of your abilities, not only was a suspect killed and the raid bugled, but I ended up kidnapped when I had to fight off their rescue party alone!

"You suspected me at every crime scene and even after the fiasco at the first take, you still insisted in actively participating in the second take.

"You used Nina, you used her and just dismissed the consequences. You make bad decisions that get people killed and I have no wish to put myself in the same position." Dark pupils dilated at the adrenaline pouring off me.

"In the end, you will end up helping us anyway," the Vampire riding Raphael warned. Then he smiled, "why not take advantage of the benefits?"

"I'm not going to work for you," I said and stood. "Now, if you don't mind, Jenks and I have an appointment we need to keep." Rapheal stood, slowly lifting the last finger off the file as he rose.

"I'll leave this here with you. Be reasonable, Ms. Morgan, I'm sure we can come to a beneficial conclusion for both our parties." "Why don't you sleep on it? In the mean time I'll commission some of those scattershot locator amulets from you. There is a sample of the missing witch's hair in the file." He stretched languorously, the motion looking peculiar with the civil servants husky pot belly.

"Remember, we did promise to hold you accountable if you didn't help us catch the murderers."

"That's not fair! Trent and I caught them!"

"Yes and handed them over to an organization that doesn't exist." I gawped in protest, pacing away with my fists clenched.

"It's not my fault you guys are so incompetent the humans could show you up any day of the week!" Stupid idea. Stupid witch to taunt the undead vampire, I thought as I went flying across the sanctuary and sliding through the hallway towards the kitchen and back living room.

He was on me before my breath even had a chance to fully vacate my lungs. Catching me around the waste and ending my glide towards the back door. His breath igniting the vampire pheromones hidden under my neonatal flawless skin. I shivered in what I wish had been fear.

"That's the problem with dealing with vampires," I said angry. "Say anything they don't like and they resort to evolutionary handicaps. If You guys were so strong you wouldn't need the damn pheromones to get things done."

He chuckled and pulled my hips closer. Making my breath catch at the hint of teeth he let show.

"I could bleed you right here, right now. I could make you beg for it. You would do anything, anyone, just for the chance that I might take you." Heat pooled in my groin, and I had to actively focus to keep from grinding against him. The calloused hand around my neck slipped down around my shoulders to support my weight. The arms around my waist slipped away, replaced by a horny fist kneading between my thighs.

Enflamed and irritated I pushed against his shoulders and twisted in his arms, struggling to free myself.

"Hands off Ms. Morgan," a tiny alarmed six year old pointed a sword at the vamp's eyelid aggressively. A contingent of Jenks older kids pointed drawn bows at our visitor. Jenks kids may have looked like innocent cherubs, but they were vicious predators ready and willing to kill to protect their clan. I was honored that they considered me family.

"That's the problem with vampires. Live a century or two and think they own the world. Stupid, foolish upstart children." A cultured voice declaimed from the direction of the back door. Raphael dropped me, and I did the bridge with my neck to see the upside down countenance of a demon in pressed green velvet and smoked glasses. What the hell was Al doing here? Oh, right it was Friday, and at midnight my twenty-four hours in the everafter would begin. Though I should have had six hours until I needed to leave. Al was early.

He misted to the very edge of the sanctified ground. Which, coincidentally happened to be right where my head was.

"I have lived, will live millennia beyond your pallid existence." My hands grabbed at his wrist as he pulled me half off my knees by my hair. I shivered as my vulnerable throat was exposed to the vampire halfway across the sanctuary. There was something sardonic about a vampire hiding from a demon on sacred ground.

"This little Witchling will live millennia beyond you. And she won't have to relinquish her soul to do it." The undead's gaze peering out of Rapheal's fully dilated pupils filled with a kind of lustful hunger twisted with a lick of hate.

"Oh yes," Al baited, breathing the words into my ear as he enjoyed the undead-vampire's seething frustration. "And of course there is that irksome little problem you have with degeneration. Up until you succumb to your human mortality of course. Pitiable Temporals. Having to buy stunted, runt, witch spells to hide repugnant lines and wrinkles, how unequivocally mortifying. For you, of course – my itchy witch here need not worry her pretty little head over such triviality." Al was brimming with malevolent mirth. Aging was a tender issue for Vampires. Most undead indulged in youth/vanity spells – generally having exceeded the age they would have preferred to spend forever in before their first death.

"Al knock it off," I pulled away from him. "What are you doing here anyway. Pickup's not until midnight. I have another six hours of work planned out." I sounded petulant, but Al was more inclined to indulge me when I acted childish than when I tried the mine's-bigger-than-yours approach.

"Protecting my investment," was his non-answer. "Collecting yet another nasty little man are we? You really must stop this. It's getting to be an embarrassingly bad habit."

He inquisitively poked his head into my bathroom. I gave him a yank when he moved on to peer into my bedroom.

"Al this is undead John Doe, currently inhabiting a Mr. Raphael Doe. Ralph," apparently Mr. walkie-talkie man didn't like his new nickname. "meet Al, my demon…ah...my demon."

"Curious. So the vampires still retain the ability to possess a living body." Al studied Raphael as if he were a museum display behind glass. "Only Newt remembers how to do that.

"They were created by us, you know. After the weres of course. But then, the weres had been for fun. The parasitic mosquitoes were a failed experiment to return to reality. Sure, they became as immortal as us after death, and naturally vacated living bodies were hard to come by those days. But, they still have human blood, no way around it. The spell just doesn't catch on anything stronger. Even the witch runts could throw it off." I thought of the pulsating vampire pheromones in my neck and disagreed.

"That's what you were going to be used for. Did you know? As soon as Newt had decided what soul would make the best obedient little broodmare for her, she was going to use our little student fetching agreement to have me snatch you up and refill you. Might want to keep that in mind the next time your piddling elfling offers you a little disembodiment spell."

Ralph – walkie-talkie man – did seem to know how to take being so outright discounted. "Perhaps we should continue our discussion another time then." He suggested, trying to nonchalantly disregard the demon the way Al was utterly ignoring his existence. Damn, you'd think there was nothing more frightening than the old undead until a demon showed up and made the ruling terrors of the underland look like children playing dress up.

"No. I'm not going to work for you and that's final. I have nothing else to say to you." His eyes narrowed on me, and I took a step back further towards the safer, unsanctified grounds. Funny that.

"Mmmmmm it has been so long since I have been in a sanctified church. The taste is far more electric, it is quite pleasing." Raphael gave me an indolent smile. Pointing out that _he_ was on sanctified ground, were as my demon mentor was not. Pissing contest between the immortally damned, if only Al had not declined to notice.

"I believe I will have to stop by more often," he threatened. "I look forward to seeing you again, Ms. Morgan. Being near you is always quite the escapade." I didn't even see him make his way to the door before I heard the soft swish of its closing. Coward. Or was it just smart. Running from a demon, yeah, that did sound smart.


	2. Chapter 2

"I need to go, and, NO, you cannot go with." I told my demon. I stood there in shock for a moment when he simply left without an argument.

Leaving the offensive manila envelope where it lay on Ivy's expressive coffee table, I dropped a few hand warmers into my purse and called for Jenks. It must have been something important for him to leave me alone with our undead visitor. I know it's silly, but something about the tiny man always made me feel safe. Nothing really bad ever happened when Jenks was around –the one kidnapping aside, and that had been because he had been taken from my side. They never could have taken me if they hadn't stickysilked my partner.

I was pulled from my musings when Jumoke drifted down from the ceiling and nodded, his overly serious face alert and ready for his own personal battle.

"Father asks if you could wait a moment," he dictated disapprovingly. "He is trying to talk Jariath and Jristofer out of hibernating in Kelsey's flowerboxes." Jariath and Jristofer, two of Jenks older boys, tended the flowerboxes across the street once held by Jenks eldest daughter, Jih. Although they looked like angelic sever year olds, they were blooded warriors. Adults in their own right. I had once seen them violently slaughter a contingent of fairies and give each other spirited high fives afterwards like men celebrated a touchdown. Apparently, they had outgrown hiding out in their father's territory for the winter. I understood Jenks concern. Harboring a tireless pixy hoard for the winter had become standard practice after Jenks had once confessed to Ivy and I that he generally lost two or three children each winter to hibernation sickness. The utter lack of privacy was worth the absence of tiny graves each spring. I bit my lip hoping Jenks wasn't about to lose another loved one less than a year after losing the love of his life, his wife Mattalina.

"Tink's a Disney whore!" Jenks flew in from the pixy whole in the boarded up window. It had been broken to stave off an attack on my life by the coven of moral and ethical standards. Was I the only one that found that ironic?

"They're going to freeze to death Rache! They're talking fairy farts! Lining their whole in the box with cellophane! We have to do something Rache! Thank God their mother isn't around to see this! For the sweet mother humpin' love of Tink!" He was frantically swooping around my head in circles. I gave up on watching him when I began to get dizzy.

"It'll be alright, Jenks," I placated. "As soon as they're asleep well move the whole damn flower box into the church. You can flit in and check on them every day. Maybe I can make one of Marshal's warmth spells." Jenks landed on my shoulder still breathing rapidly.

"Maybe you're right. But for the love of Tink's tiny red panties, I'm worried. At least they don't have offspring yet.

"Oh, God, Rache! I'm going to be the first pixy grandfather ever," he looked a little green against the orange dust he was shedding.

I heard thunking from the stairs leading to the belfry complete with genuine brass steeple bell. Wayde appeared, and raised an eyebrow at me. "You weren't thinking of driving without me were you?"

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"Good, because I know your temporary license expired last week." I winced. "Keys," he held his hand out to me expectantly. Reluctantly, I dug into my purse and coughed up my keys. David had offered to drive me, but I hadn't wanted to make him drive past the FIB building to pick me up.

David and Glenn met us at the door. From their chuckles and dropped conversation as we joined them, I guessed they had probably been talking about me.

"Rachel, Jenks, what took you so long," Glenn hailed me convivially. "Let's get this over with. Give them a chance to set up before my surprise going away party." David chuckled.

"Glenn let me introduce Jumoke." The second pixy lifted from the folds of my scarf. Glenn lifted a hand, palm up, and Jumoke lit on his wrist in greeting.

"I look forward to working with you," Glenn replied. Jumoke nodded, his serious face set with determination.

I gave Rose,Eddin's secretary, a bunny eared kiss-kiss as we passed her on the way to Glenn's office. Last time we had been there it had been in a state of organized clutter. Piles three feet high off every surface. Now all that was left was the stereotypical cardboard box of personal items. Including the stuffed rat on top of what I was sure was a copy of Nick Sparagmos's, an old thief boyfriend of mine, file.

"So, the men-who-don't-belong offered you a job huh," I whispered to Glenn in the hallway while the pixies kept David busy settling into the austere office. The privacy was illusory. Everyone in that room could probably hear a pixy sneeze from across a football field. I caught Glenn's dumbfounded gawp before he composed himself.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Sure you do. Fancy equipment, lack of respect, took away the HAPA criminals after Trent and I took them down, stuck us full of memory inhibitors…"

Glenn cringed.

"You know you're not supposed to remember being administered memory inhibitors."

"Only when they're as useless as sugar pills." I walked into Glenn's office and sat on the second unambiguous folding chair facing Glenn's desk. So I guess I was a little peeved with Glenn for just packing up and leaving Ivy. I was surprised my roommate would still talk to me, seeing as it was probably all my fault he was being hired by the unnamed clandestine organization. And I was sure he had been now. He would not have asked Jenks if any of his kids were interested in a partnership if he was going to retire to sell flowers in Flagstaff. I wonder if that's were their undercover lair was.

The four men quickly started talking barrister, Jumoke quickly becoming aggravated with his Father's excessive attention to parental details. Wayde fallowed me as I wondered out of the tiny office over to the break room all the harried racket was coming from. I sighted Eddin across the room, leaning against the corner counter space out of the way of the bustle surrounding a long folding table that was seemingly being turned into a sort of buffet table. Eddin clearly looked miserable. I went to join him in the corner, gaving him a little hug around the shoulders.

"Thanks Morgan. He's a damn fine officer, Glenn, he's got a talent. My boy was going to bring our two peoples together for the common good. Fight the good fight, change the world. That's my boy. Damn shame, damn shame." He took a swig of what I suspected was a touch harder than lemonade. I didn't think it was in the punch bowl either.

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about his skills going to waste. My fault actually, his leaving. I think I inadvertently recommended him to a secrete high profile administration." Eddin eye lids twitched convinced I was pulling his chain. I gave him good eye contact to let him know I was serious. His eyes widened. Amazing, half a conversation entirely on eye contact.

"You're kidding."

"Nope." I shook my head.

We watched people bustle around. Eyeing me as if daring me to take a slice of their confetti decorated marble cake. Eddin gave me an apologetic look. I shrugged. I'd long since stopped being their pet witch, though I was still on their call register for resident inderlander experts. It didn't help that many of them suspected I'd slaughtered a handful of my fellow witches and gotten away with the murders. There was more than one reason I resented the-men-who-didn't-belong taking away my target after I'd caught him – with a little help from a certain little cookie maker.

David and Jenks kept Glenn busy long enough for everything to get set up, most of the officers drifting in one by one to join the waiting crowd in the unlit room. The detective even did a good job of feigning surprise when they all popped up and flicked the lights on yelling "surprise!".

Eddin staggered over to his son and gave Glenn a bear hug.

"I'm proud of you." I smiled at the heart warming scene wishing my father had had the chance to do the same for me.

"Thanks, Dad." There was some shocks from the few left at the department branch who hadn't know the relationship between the two men by now and some knowing smiles from those who did. Eddin looked nothing like his stepson. He had adopted the boy when he had married his mother, only to lose her soon after to an armed mugger. The two had had nothing but each other for a very long time. I was almost mad at Glenn for leaving Eddin. Or maybe that was just residual feelings from Ivy.

The party commenced, and within ten minutes I found myself propped up against the counters, alone with my piece of vanilla icing. Everyone oohed and aaahed as Jenks dusted rainbows across the room.

"So, you hear anything from the IS lately?" Eddin settled between me and the chunk of wall Wayde had claimed.

"Nope, I hear the undead vamp in charge is in trouble though."

"Good." I crossed my arms over my chest, thinking of Nina. "He deserves it."

"Be careful, Morgan," Eddin warned. "Demon or not you're on the wrong side of the lay lines to be proof against vampires. And this one obviously wants something from you. Be careful he doesn't blame you for his little demotion. You don't want problems with the undead on top of everything else."

I huffed in response. Glad I hadn't told him about this afternoon's visit.

Ivy stormed in, looking harried more than heart broken. Pulling me along by the hand, she led me out of the room, ignoring Glen. His eyes followed her both ways across the room, pain and guilt veiled behind his "cop face".

"I need your help," Ivy spun me around in the hallway. "I have a run on a witch in a crowded area. I want to use your ability to set a circle to keep the danger zone contained." She couldn't meet my eyes. Ivy didn't need help with her run, she never did. But, she didn't want to be alone the night before Glen left, and she was refusing to speak to him.

"Rachel, could you give us a few minutes alone." Glen met Ivy's angry glare head on. I squeezed Ivy's hand and stepped away. I couldn't hear what they said, but Ivy stormed away with a tint of anguish to her anger.

"You should stay with him tonight. You will regret it if you don't." She didn't answer; the car fell silent all the way to a crowded inderlander tavern near the bridge its mixed public license proudly displayed in the window.

"That's him." She pointed through the glass. I watched the witch sit down at an empty booth with his meal. The restaurant was making use of its MPL; the place was stacked. I glanced down at my splat gun and back to the witch partially hidden from view by other patrons. This was definitely going to make a mess. At least it wasn't at Juniors. They had just started serving me again.

Prepared for my inevitable banning from yet another establishment, I primed myself for the take. Adrenaline shot through me, speeding my pulse.

"Let me teach you how it's done, love." A cultured British voice entreated from behind me. I pivoted on one foot to find smoked-rim glasses and crushed green velvet. What the hell was Al doing here?

"Your little reality show has bequeathed me quite a bit of embarrassment, so I have decided to show you how to do this right, itchy witch."

"Like you would know how to do a take," I sneered.

"In fact, I do have a moderate amount of firsthand experience."

"On the wrong end of the metaphorical stick." He harrumphed at me and straightened the lace at his cuffs.

"Let me show you how the professionals do it," and pushed his way into the bar.

Multicolored florescent lights assaulted my irises. Smoke smogged the air from a dozen cigars, and the scent of beer and grease permeated every inch of the place.

Espying Al, I tried to make my way through the encumbering tables before Al got to the tag. Easily reaching the witch before me, the demon set and undrawn circle around the target. I felt a pull on the line as he set yet another circle within the first, trapping the man in the slim crescent between the two. I hadn't known we could do that.

"Come with me, or I drag you into the everafter," Al exposed his goat-slit pupils, and the slovenly witch nodded slowly as the blood rushed out of his head leaving it pallid and sallow. Placing a hand on an ossified shoulder Al lead the man out of the tavern without causing a single outraged or alarmed exclaim.

I shrugged at the look Ivy gave me. Looks like Al was good for more than snatching familiars and attending parties.

"Now that that's done," he offered me an arm. "We really ought to be going, itchy witch."

I opened my mouth to protest, but shut it, grinding my teeth together. It was almost time anyway, and I couldn't argue that I had something better to do. Business wasn't good on this side of the lines for a morally handicapped demon. I'd had to report nearly every client that had come to me the past month. Their requests had struck a bow to my faith in the good will of man.

"You got this?" I meant more than the zip strapped, handcuffed witch with his bulging, terrified eyes glued to Al. Ivy nodded. She'd see Glen tonight, whether she stayed the night was up to him. I wasn't sure if it was better to come and find her gone, or find her there. There wasn't going to be a happy ending for this one. But then, whenever is there?

"If you're not home by Monday, I'll call your mom." Sometimes letting someone know your summoning name could be blasted useful.

"'kay." I smiled as Al took my elbow, and we were gone.


	3. Chapter 3

I cowered in the sudden sunlight. Sunlight?

"Dali's?" I asked wondering when the novelty of my construct would wear off. Or was it the sunlight? I should probably make another so Brooke doesn't end up turning into a lobster. Would she be grateful or even more pissed to have yet another shift to prepare for? Spotting her jostling through the crowd with heavy canvas bags hanging from her shoulders, I winced at the bright red, cracked, peeling skin showing around her frilly pink one piece swimsuit with revealing wholes torn out of it. Yep, I was definitely going to have to make another one. I wondered if demons could get sugared like vampires. I scrutinized Al from behind my curls.

Na, demons had far too many trust issues for that. Then again, so did Ivy.

"We're not at Dalliance, itchy witch. This is the new screensaver. I don't think you realize, dear, just how well appreciated your bantam construct is. We have not seen the sun in many a millennia. Further, your little memory is the largest tulpa we have ever had. Not even Newt has filled the entire collective with detail as you have. Be careful, itchy witch. It's a dangerous thing to outperform a demon more powerful than yourself."

I swiped Al's sunglasses - he could call in another pair - and sighed in relief. I took another look at my surroundings. The demons had expounded my construct so much I didn't even recognize the memory anymore. There were a pack of swim suited joggers doing the Baywatch run passing by what looked like a yoga class. I licked my lips at the line of sunbathing towels looking like a male-all-you-can-eat buffet. Sweet glistened on the smooth, well-toned muscles of the male model convention around me. Good God, I was in the midst of a slutty teenage wet dream.

Demons wore either light revealing clothes that teased and fluttered in the wind or tantalizing swim suits. What familiars I saw looked pained, wearing even skimpier outfits than the demons. Probably less than what they had considered underwear during their respective lives in reality. My stomach did loopty-loops at the gleaming throng playing volleyball, the net propped up between two petrified trees. A spray painted elf sold slushy's, trying to keep his rainbow painted privates behind his little metal stand. A trio of beautiful naked blond witches offered oil messages at the end of the line of sun bathers. A thicker patch of rock tree forest held the gleeful yelps and splats of a water balloon/gun fight. In the other direction someone had set up an enormous above ground pool, complete with diving boards and water slides Far off ahead of us I could see the simmering outline of brightly or elaborately decorated umbrellas and tent pavilions. It seemed like the everafter had been set on summer break mode since I left.

"Rachel," a demon in the guise of a college frat boy siddled up to us, ignoring Al'd unfriendly glare. "I can't tell you what a pleasure it is to meet you," he dogmaed, taking my hand and giving it an eloquent bow. How anyone could pull off elegant in a tiny speedo was absolutely astounding.

Trent could do it, I thought. Then hastily shook the thought from my mind. Or, at least, I tried to. I really couldn't help the drool worthy image from popping into my head.

The demon raised a brow at me. No matter how much time I spend in front of a mirror, I still can't do that.

"Nice to meet you…" I lead, eyeing him askance.

"Enochlitiko, ma'm. Noch if you like." He ogled me suggestively.

"Is there something I can do for you Tiko, or do you just enjoy playing the annoying tourist paparazzi?" Al laughed. Enochlitiko was less than amused. He gave me a polite pasted-on smile. Damn, the man had teeth so white they belonged in a Colgate commercial. I was going to have to find myself a demon dentist. I waited for Jenks quip about all dentists being demons but had to satisfy myself with an echoing oral memory.

"I am curious to see if you would be interested in a smaller more complex construct proposal. I was speculating whether you would be capable of creating perhaps a sunroof with a cycling day and night sequences corresponding with the actual day and night progressions." From Al's hiss I guessed this was extremely challenging – aka potentially embarrassing – if not potentially dangerous. I guess if it was easy, someone would already have added the fake windows after the demons moved underground.

"I don't know Enochlitiko," I inspected my nails. "That sounds like a whole lot of trouble. Why should I bother?" Al smiled proudly at me.

"Indeed Noch, why should my student and I slog around on your account?" Enochlitiko gave him an ugly look.

"Who needs include you, louse?" He returned Al's hostile glare.

"Me." Al looked pleased when Enochlitiko's inimical glower darkened.

"With all due respect, My Lady, there is no need for this fumbling ape's help. Unlike this muddling idiot, I once traded in construct creation. I would be more than happy to lend you my experience." I held up a hand to cut short his droll spiel.

"No offence, but ten seconds ago I didn't even know your name. Why would I trust you with my precious, everlasting soul?

"You have insulted my teacher several times, and, by extension, me. All while asking me to take on a boresome contract. I will regrettably have to decline your oh-so-generous offer." I laid the sarcasm on thick. I had no idea why I took offense when other demons insulted Al. Though, it could be that as his student, if he looked bad, I looked bad. I dropped the thought as Al escorted me away from the pompous little man right into a mob of enthusiastic demons. Al did nothing to help me ward off the throng of admirers stroking my hair and caressing my arms. He did step in when one ventured towards less neutral areas.

"Al, you ruined our little show, stepping in on her run like that. I had to cut the episode short." A demon complained the first in the circle with their attention on Al instead of me.

"Well, I couldn't very well let my precious student do anything _dangerous_ without supervision, could I?" I tried and failed to raise an eyebrow at him, settling for a scowl instead. "I brought her here to make up for it," he continued, motioning to a short demon in the mien of an adolescent boy. The boy smiled and motioned us towards the above ground pool. He followed us up the steps before gating it behind him. So not a good omen.

"She'll be needing water wear," the demon commented, stopping us partway up the stairs. Al smiled and put a hand on my shoulder, and I was suddenly in a very skimpy bikini. Heat ran up my face, turning me a bright cherry red. See if I ever stood up for him again. I resisted, refusing to go any further up the stairs. Al noticed me crossing my cactus legs and rolled his eyes before another spell had me shaved in all the right places. The outfit was far too lasciviously bawdy, but at least my small chest didn't need all that much to cover it. I felt a small hand caress my half exposed rump and turned in dismay to find a very disproportionately large bulge in the pubescent demon's shorts. Al ignored him, going ahead of me up the stairs. I had to try very hard not to look at the dangling proof that Al had forgone the netting in his black, emerald pattered, swim shorts. I hurried to catch up with him. The disturbing child-demon's eyes glued to my crotch.

Over an hour he kept us up there, a few, obviously important, demons toadying up to him for a chance to touch my scantily clad body. After twenty minutes of it I huffed away from him, jumping in the pool to escape the heat. The depth of the pool was changed and I was dragged into rounds of chicken and marco-polo. All excuses for the occasional inappropriate grope. I fled the pool before they moved onto outright molestation. I took Al's arm, my other hand pinching him where the others wouldn't see it. We finally made excuses, something about sunburn or heat stroke, and we finally left.

But Al still wasn't done showing me off. He took me to dinner at Dalliance. It was a nice conservative ballroom style banquet at first. Then, - as if wearing a corset wasn't punishment enough - someone changed the theme to a dance club with a suspicious looking pole in the middle of the dance floor. I ran out before Al got ideas of putting me in a G-string.

Al caught up with me and whisked us to his library. I turned on him and kicked him were the sun didn't shine. Ever since I'd made my first tulpa Al had become even more of an attention whore. Increasingly neglecting lessons altogether in favor of 'networking'.

"I swear Al, you bring me to one more molest-Rachel fest and I'll kick you so hard your kids with have testicular trauma!" He shivered, healing himself. The grimace didn't disappear.

"You're going to need a lot of good will in the collective once Newt proves the everafter is shrinking. And you're not the only one who needs some form of protection from Newt you know." I did a long blink, thinking that tidbit over.

"What is it with you and Newt anyway?" I flopped into the seat across from Al at his hearth. "I get the whole 'you have something she wants' thing, but why do _you_ hate her so much?"

"Rachel, Newt killed all her sisters. Did you ever stop to think what that means to us?

"Her sisters where our sisters, our mothers, our daughters," his voice caught, "our mates." The pain in his eyes, I knew that look. I knew how it felt to watch someone you love die violently before your very eyes. Knowing that you failed to save them. Feeling like you betrayed them by surviving them. He had seen Newt kill them, kill people he cared about. No wonder the demons where so screwed up. I would be too if I had spent a few thousand years knowing that my peoples' only hope for the future lay with the woman who had slaughtered those most dear to me.

"There is more than one reason I want Ku'Sox dead." I saw a flash of heat in his eyes strong enough to rival my own.

Kisten, I still miss you.

I turned away, lifting my head up to the intricate woodwork on the ceiling that I was unable to see beyond my tearing eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Questions? Reviews? Chapter transition help? I am a failure at the segue.**

** Anything would be welcome...except haters.  
There is a fine line between constructive criticism and flaming.  
One makes things better. The other is just being an ass.**

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As nasty as the first few hours in the everafter had been, Al still managed to get me in his kitchen for a few hours of bemoaning my idiocy before he let me go. I made it back in time to watch Glenn leaving, having Al drop me off 'at Ivy' rather than at the church. Ivy was fuming to keep from crying as she held Daryl one last time before the dryad slipped into the car. The nature sensitive warrior would be following Glenn to his new uncertain future.

"Rachel, a word before I go," Glenn motioned me off to the side and I followed him stiffly. I hated how he was hurting Ivy, but he was a friend and I didn't want to say goodbye to him angry. "A bit of advice: Be more careful of what you say to whom. You give away more information than you should, things that could come back to bite you.

"I wish you hadn't said anything about that group. I could have told them that it's _possible_ that you remember. Now I have to tell them you _do _remember. I don't know how they'll take that or what they'll do about it. They might just dart you from a distance. You'd never even know you'd been missing.

"It's not like I want to," he cut off my protest, "but you took away my plausible deniability when you told me that. In front of cameras and witnesses no less." He was right. Damn it. Cross as I was with him, I'd simply trusted him to keep my secret. It hadn't occurred to me that Glenn might tell them himself. Maybe he'd even load the next dart. Maybe he already had, before I'd cast that demon memory spell.

"I trusted you," I hissed at him, and was distantly aware of the others keeping Ivy and Jenks distracted. I felt cheated, betrayed. Glenn may have been human, but I'd always thought of him as one of us. Not inderlander, a friend and member of our quirky little family. And here he was, choosing this new, underground organization over me, over us. Bad enough he'd already chosen to leave Ivy to go work for them.

"Damn it, Rachel," Glenn swore at me with a heat I'd never had my human FIB associate direct at me. "Don't you dare blame this on me! I didn't ask you about it for a reason, but you just had to show off what a turn blasted badass you are! You knew why I was moving away. You probably know better than I do. You didn't think about what it would be like for me to have to choose between the friends I love and the men I'm going to fight beside. Those that I owe loyalty too. Did it even once enter your flaky brain that poking at me like a spoiled preschooler might have consequences? Now I have to move away, where I can't protect you, and worry that your lack of judgment doesn't get all of you into even more trouble. That Ivy won't get hurt trying to protect _you_!" I watched in dismay as his mahogany complexion darkened with vehemence.

"You carp on and on that pixies can't keep a secret, but Jenks has _never _let something slip the way you do, constantly. You get the people around you hurt when, if you took the time to think things through, you could have stopped anything alarming from happening at all. You're a demon, for Christ's sake, that kind of power could save thousands of lives, if only you would grow up and learn some responsibility. If you don't, you're going to get someone you loved killed." He took a deep breath, continuing at a more evenhanded pace."

My eyes widened; horror dawned on me. Did my words hurt people? I was just trying to be an honest person. Was he right? Was I going to get them killed?

My mind immediately when to Kisten. And Pierce, I'd never checked on him since Al told me he'd sold him to Newt. Over six months with her, there was no guarantee he was even still alive. Or that there was anything left to save. I thought of Trent's hand I'd still yet to heal, despite the simplicity of the spell – Ceri was even going to make the whole thing for me. I thought of running after Eloy in that tunnel, Trent ridding to my rescue. Biss braving the lines alone to gather up the tattered pieces of my soul. Ivy, torched in Ku'Sox's hands while I slept, recovering from my first, and a particularly large, Tulpa construction. Jenk's heartbroken song as he mourned the passing of his beloved Matalina, killed by fairy assassins sent to kill me. I was a runner; danger was part of the job, part of their jobs too. But, not the kind of danger I'd dragged them into. My friends were some of the best at what we do. Without me, nothing ever would have hurt Ivy, no one would ever have bested Matalina, Jenks wouldn't be doomed to outlive his kids.

"I'm sorry to leave Ivy, I really am," he continued softly, almost apologetically. "But she'll always protect you. I can't sit around and watch her die so you can keep playing high flying superwoman." There was nothing I could say to that.

When we walked back to the others I scourged up a smile and gave Glenn a hug goodbye. I couldn't bring myself to apologize to him, but Ivy needed to be able to say goodbye, a real one. Anger would get in the way of that. Jenks noticed something was wrong with me, but this was a support Ivy moment. I shook my head, and he left it alone.

"Here," Glenn said, rolling down the window to hand me a scrap of paper. "Roark was my recruiting officer. He's a retired veteran now. If you're serious about...running, he can help." I heard what he meant. Turn take it, I already had a demon teacher. How many more teachers could a girl need?

I glanced over at Jenks enthusiastically hugging his son goodbye, the dryad enthusiastically assuring him she'd take good care of his boy.

"Plenty of real food now, no honey, you're far too young yet." The boy scowled, but nodded, his blond curls bouncing around his cherub cheeks.

As the car vanished around the horizon, I stood among the crowd of well-wishers, and looked at the scrap of paper. I programmed the number into my phone and let Ivy drive us home. She'd stay out tonight; too uptight to cry.

Jenks was quiet the ride home too, thinking of his eldest son. Probably wishing he'd had the chance to wish Jax goodbye. The life of a garden pixy was hard enough, but those children who took too much after their father hurt Jenks the most. They grew up and flew away looking for adventure. And Jenks got to stay behind, knowing they might be in danger, and let them go anyhow.

I wanted to think I saved lives, but just then, it was hard not to think I ended them.

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**I'm sorry to be so angst in this chapter. I hope I didn't make Glenn too harsh in this chapter, or Rachel to contrite or childish.  
I do see Rachel as somewhat childish, and I've been waiting for someone to have a more in depth argument with her about it long before Wayde's started and dropped it at the beginning of A Perfect Blood.  
Don't misunderstand, I don't think her 'childishness' is a bad thing. In fact, I think it's essential to who she is. Well... I think the next chapter will explain better...If I ever finish it.**

**Please review :)**


	5. Chapter 5

Jenks was brooding over his soon to be scattered children while his dark haired Jumoke watched over his father disaproveingly. Rex was watching patiently from the floor while Belle sat with the bereaved pixy, who'd thankfully forgotten to be curious over my private talk with Glenn. Ivy hadn't come home that morning, following up to flagstaff to help the couple move in. Rynn Cormel was reasonably pissed. I hoped she wouldn't find a nasty surprise up there waiting for her.

Trent called to invite me riding. I'd gone to the Kalamack mansion to talk with Ceri. After directing myself to the privet courters, I'd backed away before Ceri and Quen, engrossed with each other while the girls played on the floor at their feet. I had backed right into Trent. I hadn't heard him come up behind me.

The billionaire elf, and sometimes magic using kickass, had taken one look at me and dragged me into Ellasbeth's old suit of rooms. It should have felt odd to sit on a bed, hugging my knees. Alone with the gorgeous murdering drug-dealer, pouring out the hurt Glenn had seared into me. But, it didn't, in a strange way something about it just fit. Trent and I had always been like that, always entwined, together but separate. I didn't think either of us really understood it, that was just the way it was.

When I'd finished Trent took my hand in his gently. We were touching at hip and thigh and I felt a guilty little thrill at touching him.

"Ivy and Jenks enable you to be…naïve, because they need that innocence, depend on it. It's what saved them from the darkest parts of themselves. Your childish enthusiasm for life drew them to you back when you worked in the IS because they needed you, just as you are. They're not babying you. They're making a statement about what kind of life they'd like to live. Immaturity has nothing to do with it. You're their _hope_, Rachel. And that means a hell of a lot more than prudence."

I bit my lip, thinking about it, as I looked out the synthetic window. The garden view was beautiful, even at this time of year, but I wasn't looking out there for the view. He took my hands in his, holding my eyes with his.

"You're perfect," he reached forward to slide a loose hair behind my ear, "just the way you are."

_Don't change because I'm a bastard. _The words echoed in my head._  
_

"Trent"

His lips met mine, soft and fleeting before he jumped to his feet pulling me after him.

"Come on, you need to change. Ceri has an outfit all picked out for you."

"Outfit," I gave a shocked try, tripping over my feet to keep up with him. Wine and cinnamon embraced me as Trent caught me to keep from falling. He steadied me and for a moment time stopped between us. And then Trent turned away, and I followed along behind him.

I was barraged by pixys and fairies as Ceri steered me into the neat walk in dressing room she shared with Quen across from the nursery. In moments they'd managed to tame my hair to some degree with an ornate coif and ringlets. The dress managed to flatter my modest chest without the shape of my nipples showing through the fabric. There was an uncomfortable moment when Ceri stepped back to let Quen and Trent in. Trents eyes taking me from head to toes before he stepped forward to help me on with a small fortune worth of jewelry. I'd stopped protesting half and hour ago, when Ceri had nearly woken the babies deriding me for being 'churlish'.

I felt the extravagance was well paid for after helping to greet guests for the next two hours. Just see if I ever gave these shoes back!

Ten minutes after the last bigwig was in I made my escape to were Winona was wrestling with the two fussy toddlers. I took Trent's more troublesome protegee from her and clutched Lucy to me like a shield. It worked, fawning admirers keeping their distance from the beautiful, persnickety little monster.

"Thanks for watching Lucy." Trent drew aside me. also using the little girl as a shield from the annoying throne of self-important bureaucrats.

"Ha," I laughed, turning away from him defensively my grip tightening possessively. "As if you could take her away from me!"

He couldn't, Ceri did. Trent taking my hand and leading me away to dance a slow waltz with me to avoid the money and power hungry swarm around us. The obnoxious soothing melody seemed to go on and on as I tried my tink blasted hardest not to embarrass myself. Hard enough to do so very close the the delicious source of that sweat cinnamon and wine aroma. Close enough to feel the heat of his body through our clothes. Trent met my soft sigh of relief with a resigned one of his own as the song ended. He stepped back, stiffening as he looked over my shoulder. Warning bells went off, adrenaline kicking my fight or flight response into gear. Just before I turned, a voice interjected, and I knew what had set Trent on DEFCON 1 so quickly.

"May I have this dance."

Al had decided to join the party.

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**_I'll have to go back and fix this chapter at some point._**

**_Reviews Appresiated_**


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